Domestic Threats
by 19q
Summary: saw the drunken Quinn prompt and this popped out of my head. (Also on the World Cup theme, written during Italy vs England)


Domestic Threats

…

Quinn has a sense of foreboding when he's called into Adal's office. Technically he doesn't work for Adal anymore - he was never officially reassigned after he was asked by Saul to join the Javadi op - but then again Saul isn't the Director anymore.

"Peter," Adal says. "Have a seat."

Quinn considers choosing to stand but isn't sure he wants to piss Adal off this early in their conversation. So he sits silently in the uncomfortable chair in front of Adal's desk, wondering what is in store for him.

He knows Adal is waiting for him to squirm and Quinn doesn't give him the satisfaction. Instead he slouches a bit and dons a bored expression.

Adal looks at him sternly and doesn't speak for nearly five minutes. But when it becomes clear that Quinn isn't going to end the silent stand off, he finally speaks.

"Peter, you've been reassigned," he states. "Damascus. You ship out in the morning and will be briefed on the flight over."

Quinn frowns. He knew this was a possibility, it was a near miracle he hasn't already been sent off to murder some so-called enemy of the state. But it doesn't mean he's going to go without a fight.

"No," he replies. "I can't do it. You'll have to find someone else."

Adal gives him a cold stare. "And why's that? Still too stressed out to do your job?"

Well, no one ever called Adal a sympathetic boss. But that's why Quinn had pulled the stress leave move in the first place - it made him very difficult to reassign.

"Yes, in fact I am. It's called indefinite stress leave for a reason," he says emotionlessly.

Quinn sees Adal's face harden and braces himself for whatever's coming. Adal pauses for a moment before he starts speaking.

"Of course. And what are you so fucking stressed out about anyhow? We both know that's bullshit, you're just hanging around like a pathetic lapdog. For what? For Carrie to get over Brody and finally notice your adolescent crush on her? For fuck's sake, Peter. You used to be a soldier. You used to be a man. What happened to that man that I recruited and trained to be the best?"

Quinn holds his cool, he knows how Adal operates and he won't let it push his buttons.

"Well, technically it's confidential but my therapist says it's PTSD," Quinn answers with false sincerity. "I'm doing well though, she says. Talking about it is helping."

He can almost see the steam coming out of Adal's ears though the older man's expression has yet to change. Quinn knows he isn't helping himself by acting the smartass but he doesn't have a lot of options. Adal can basically just order him back to work and there is not much Quinn can do about it except quit. You give away a lot of your rights when you work for the CIA. Particularly when you work for Dar Adal.

Adal gives a low growl.

"Well, good to hear Peter. In fact, I believe I just saw an affidavit from your therapist saying you're ready to return to field work starting immediately," he counters, his voice low and mean.

Quinn stares at his former boss, a bit surprised Adal is going to such lengths to put him back in active operations. There are more than enough shooters to go around. This is merely a power play.

"Oh, it's good to hear I'm cured. I didn't know," he replies coldly. "In that case I quit."

Adal exhales slowly. "I thought you might say that," he says with a knowing nod. "I just want you to think this through carefully before you make that decision. You are a man of many talents. Some at the Agency will see you as a liability were you to leave."

"So what? Now you're threatening me? I know I gave away some of my rights but I never said I was in this for life," Quinn replies with steel in his voice. "So fuck right off with your threats. I can take care of myself."

Adal nods, as if he already knew what Quinn would say. "But you're not the only liability around here are you?" he asks smugly. "There's not much need for agents who constantly disobey direct orders and jeopardize top-level operations. Even risk their own lives or the lives of their colleagues. Easy for someone like that to get hurt, killed even because of a rash decision."

And there it was, Adal's endgame. Quinn had to admit he had played it out well. He was good and fucked now.

"You wouldn't dare," Quinn says, his temper starting to flare.

"Peter, you know me better than that. There's nothing I wouldn't do to maintain control of this situation," Adal counters.

Quinn bites down hard on his anger. He could threaten Adal but that would possibly put Carrie at risk. The safer option is to just suck it it up. Be a man as Adal says. Do what's best for her, for her safety.

Quinn's expression does not betray his furor when he finally stands down. He merely gets up and stares daggers into Adal's eyes.

"What time's the flight?" he asks.

Adal smiles oilily. "Seven AM. You better not miss it," he says.

Quinn considers spitting on his boss but thinks better of it and stalks out of the office, defeat in his steps.

…

He's lost count of the shots by the time the bartender starts to substitute water for alcohol. All Quinn knows is he can usually hold his liquor and he is fairly wasted.

It is not a feeling he's used to. His job is all about being reliable, being in control - even when off duty. There was always the chance of being called out for an improvised opportunity and it wouldn't do to be unable to perform. That's what Adal expected of his guys - total dedication.

When he feels a hand grip his shoulder roughly Quinn doesn't even remember closing his eyes. The bartender releases his grip and tells Quinn that he's called a taxi for him.

Quinn winces, looks dumbly at the bartender for a moment before reaching for his wallet.

"It's alright, I work nearby. I'll sleep it off at the office," he says, not sure if he is lying.

The bartender gives him a dubious look but Quinn flips his pockets out, showing no car keys and he is allowed to leave. He heads out onto the street and starts walking, not sure where he is going.

Quinn walks on autopilot for a while before looking up and realizing he's subconsciously walked himself back to headquarters. He's still angry but the booze is having a numbing effect. He supposes it really might be easiest to sleep it off here before facing his flight tomorrow. Not like he had anything he really needed from his empty house - his weapons would be supplied upon arrival, and there would be someone at his destination to pick up anything else he might need.

In the end the decision comes down to what is easiest so Quinn heads back into the building, trying to decide on the best place to sleep unnoticed. He wanders up towards Saul's old office, past the office Carrie has been using since she got back. It's dark, which is somewhat of a surprise. Despite being over eight months into her pregnancy she still works late more days than anyone he has ever known.

It's not until he nears Adal's office that Quinn realizes where his alcohol-fueled feet have been taking him. The door is ajar, emitting a low glow of light and Quinn's simmering rage starts to grow.

Quinn pushes through the door and finds Adal still sitting at his desk, reading a file. Adal looks up in surprise at the intrusion and frowns when he sees it's Quinn.

"Peter, it's late. You have a flight to catch in the morning," he says, a strong hint in his voice.

"Maybe I do and maybe I don't," Quinn replies in a drunken singsong.

"Do we really have to go over this again?" Adal asks, irritation starting to show.

"No, I remember it all pretty well," Quinn responds. "I said I have PTSD, you said I don't. You said I have a flight tomorrow at seven and I said I quit. You said you'd kill me and I said I don't give a fuck, I still quit. You said you'd kill Carrie and I said okay I'll get on a flight at seven. Does that about cover it?"

Adal smirks. "Yes, that sounds accurate. You didn't mention the part where you get drunk and make a fool of yourself though," he says with a sneer. "This schoolboy infatuation has done nothing but bring you down, Peter. Don't do something you'll regret."

Quinn looks at Adal, figures there is nothing to lose now. The booze has quickened his courage and loosened his tongue.

"You know what, you're right. I have been being a fool. Thinking about things, not just blindly obeying orders. You say I'm infatuated with Carrie? Well, fine then, yes I am. Can you blame me? She's intelligent, demanding, courageous and feisty as fuck," he blurts out. "So what? I got soft? Well maybe I did. Or maybe I finally grew some balls. The way they used her, even Saul. It wasn't right."

Adal waits for him to finish, looking impatient.

"So what now, Peter? You said you remember our conversation," Adal asks. "If you are not on that plane in the morning you will be responsible for whatever happens."

"Say what you mean, Adal. I'm over all the fucking euphemisms. Responsible for her death. That's what you mean right. You'll have your newest recruit, a younger me, someone who doesn't ask questions yet put a bullet through her head," Quinn rants loudly. "Admit it. That's what you mean."

Adal looks at him coldly and answers in a voice dripping with disdain. "Yes, Peter. You know how this works. That is exactly what I mean. Now what is the purpose of this conversation? I believe all of these points have previously been covered."

"Well then I have a new point to bring up. I'm not getting on that plane tomorrow. And nothing is going to happen to Carrie. She is going to have a happy healthy baby and live a long life as a fucking great station chief," Quinn explains, gaining steam as he goes. "And you know how I know that's going to happen? Well, because it depends on your life. And I happen to know you put great value on your own life."

Adal glares at him with an expression Quinn has never seen before.

"So now you're threatening me?" he growls, the menace in his tone impossible to miss.

But Quinn just nods slowly. "You catch on quick. I am definitely threatening you. I'm your man Adal. You know me. And I'm telling you now if anything ever happens to Carrie, you better start looking behind your back. Even if it wasn't you, I will come for you. When you least expect it, just when you think you're completely safe. And you know I am a man of my word."

Adal stares at him silently, as if unsure of what is happening. Quinn imagines he is not a man who is often threatened. When Adal doesn't say anything for over a minute, Quinn knows he has won this round.

"I guess you never really knew me after all," Quinn says with a slight shrug. "Did you really think I would let you threaten Carrie and get away with it?"

Again Adal is silent as Quinn gives him one last glare, relishing the defeat in his eyes before turning around and leaving. He is worked up from the confrontation and strides down the hall still seeing red - uncharacteristically failing to notice the hurried movement of a pregnant blonde slipping around the corner as he leaves Adal's office.

…

Fin.

(Sketches in Q still to come…)


End file.
